Title: Ambiance is keyAuthor: astri13Characters: John, Mary, Baby :)Rating: PGWord Count: 855Disclaimer: I don't own anything about the show. *g*Notes: Many thanks to aizjanika for an awesome beta-job.Beware of schmoop. :)Summary: It isn't always a question of what you eat but where.

Mary shrugged helplessly. "At the hospital they said he was a perfectly healthy little boy." Holding the baby tightly against her shoulder, Mary gently started to rock him. The infant's desperate wails had finally quieted down, but the scrunched-up, tear-streaked little face looked far from happy.

Not that Mary could blame him. The little one must have been starving, and Mary would have liked nothing better than to feed him right now, but the baby refused anything they offered him and she and John were both at the end of their rope.

In the hospital everything had been fine. Mary had breastfed her newborn son, and the baby had gurgled happily while suckling. She had even fed him in the car on the ride back home three days ago, but ever since they'd set foot in the house, the baby refused to eat.

At first believing the infant had just been cranky about leaving his heretofore only familiar environment for new digs, Mary had grown increasingly restless on the second day and had phoned the doctor. The man hadn't been much help, speculating the baby had suddenly developed an allergic reaction to mother's milk. They were supposed to try formula and observe the situation for a few days, before bringing him in for another check-up.

So they had tried feeding their little one formula to no avail. Whenever the bottle was pressed to his lips, the baby had pulled away with an unhappy frown which quickly turned into full on screaming.

John nervously drummed his fingers against the doorframe. Then a determined expression came over his face. "That's it. We're taking him to the hospital again. This is not normal."

Mary sighed but couldn't really argue with that, so she dressed the baby in his brand-new little jacket, embroidered with colourful little ducks. John pulled a face. He hated that jacket, claimed it was making his son look "unmanly".

The idea made Mary snort. Their son was all of a week and a half old. How manly was he supposed to be? Besides, the jacket had been a gift from her mother, and Mary thought the baby looked adorable in it. A little hat completed the picture and off they went.

Opting to sit in the back seat with the infant, Mary felt little hands grab at her clumsily a few minutes after they'd started driving. She looked down, and the baby started making tiny sounds, almost drowned out by the Impala's rumbling engine.

Huh? Mary knew that look. It was the "feed me" look she had come to know very well back at the hospital. Experimentally, she opened her blouse and pulled down her maternity bra on one side, guiding the little mouth to his source of nourishment. Immediately the baby latched on, the ferocity of the action making Mary gasp.

"Um…John?"

"Almost there, honey," John answered distractedly.

"John," Mary tried again, "he is feeding."

"What?" The car swerved a little with John's surprised shout. The sudden movement dislodged the baby's mouth from his Mecca and unhappy wailing filled the car. Quickly Mary guided the baby back. If anything the infant sucked even more fiercely, tiny hands grabbing her breast as if to make it clear he wasn't about to let go again-at least not until he'd gotten his fill.

"So, are we still taking him to the hospital?" Mary asked, unsure.

John scratched his head with one hand. "Hm. Don't know. What do you think happened?"

Mary looked down at the baby again, little face wearing a look of pure bliss, blue eyes smiling up at her. "Maybe he likes being fed in the car? You know, the vibrations and rumblings of the engine."

John looked confused for a moment, but then a big smile spread over his face. "Like cars, huh? Isn't he just a chip off the old block?"

"Lots of babies like the sound of an engine or the rocking feeling in a moving vehicle, John. Doesn't have to mean anything." Mary laughed. "Maybe he'll want to be a cook or a lawyer or fireman or maybe he'll run away to Hollywood to become a biiiig movie star." She pressed a kiss to the baby's still bald head.

"Dude, your momma is crazy," John spoke to the baby, glancing at his wife's reflection in the rear-view mirror.

"You just wait until he is a teenager, John Winchester, see how much a chip off the old block he is then."

John shook his head. "I'll never fight with any son of mine the way my old man fought with me. He'll be a respectful, loyal young man, helping out his old dad. Won't you, dude?"

Mary smirked. "Before you assign him shifts at the garage, you do realize that his little car-fetish means you'll have to drive us around for those midnight feedings, right?"

Her husband's enthusiasm about this new development looked like it had just been dampened considerably.

Mary just hoped the little one wouldn't always be so picky when it came to eating.

Comments

I modeled the baby a bit after myself in that I wasn`t a picky eater per se but - according to my Mom - needed special "rituals" like "do not touch my belly, don`t hold me like this etc" to really get started. Babies so know who`s the boss.

Good story.Oh,poor John with the irony.I've always had this idea where Mary and John never conceived their sons on their bed because they never made it to a bad. I had Dean conceived on the hood of the Impala(and that could be why he likes it so much)and I had Sammy conceived on a kitchen table,which promptly broke because John got a little too enthusiatic with his wife.

I've always had this idea where Mary and John never conceived their sons on their bed because they never made it to a bad. I had Dean conceived on the hood of the Impala(and that could be why he likes it so much)and I had Sammy conceived on a kitchen table,which promptly broke because John got a little too enthusiatic with his wife.

Mary sighed but couldn't really argue with that, so she dressed the baby in his brand-new little jacket, embroidered with colourful little ducks. John pulled a face. He hated that jacket, claimed it was making his son look "unmanly".

He's in diapers, John. He's a new-born baby.

It's not the cheerful duckies that are making him "unmanly".

The idea made Mary snort. Their son was all of a week and a half old. How manly was he supposed to be?

See?

John shook his head. "I'll never fight with any son of mine the way my old man fought with me. He'll be a respectful, loyal young man, helping out his old dad. Won't you, dude?"

of course the impala calms him down! she's his first love. ^_^ also the jacket with the ducks sounds adorable, and i love the little future injokes in mary's list of baby!dean's potential careers. (he did want to be a fireman briefly, and apparently he makes a hell of a pa....) and john's kind of right - dean does grow up to be respectful (sort of) and loyal and helping out his old man. just not the way john might have hoped for....